


Annie Leibovitz ain't got nothing on me

by LithiumReaper



Category: Hit the Floor (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Boys Kissing, Building IKEA furniture sucks, First Date, Fluff and Smut, Jude is a puppy, M/M, Photographs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-10-08 00:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10374144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LithiumReaper/pseuds/LithiumReaper
Summary: “Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever… It remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything.” — Aaron SiskindOR5 times Jude takes a photo of Zero, and one time Zero takes a photo (or two) of his own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first HTF fic, so I'm still pretty rotten at it. 
> 
> This is unbeta'd. Any and all errors are completely mine. Please let me know if you spot any errors, glaringly or otherwise.
> 
> Explicit rating is for chapter 2, which will be posted on Wednesday.
> 
> Any kudos and comments are loved like an only child.

Jude starts taking photos whenever Zero isn't looking. And sometimes even when he is. He tells himself that he wants to capture the little moments, like that one Sunday morning when Jude stumbled out of their bedroom, still half asleep, to find Zero standing in front of the kitchen window, bright morning light streaming in, a halo around him that was so bright, Jude could barely make out the side of Zero's face. He remembers the lump that formed in his throat and how he had to force himself to look away, to blink, to tell his heart to calm the fuck down. 

It's these little moments that make Jude so fucking happy that he pushed for what he wanted, that he cut Zero off when he did. It strikes him sometimes that maybe he was too hard on Zer- _Gideon_ , and feels like an asshole.

::

I.

It all starts innocuously at first. Zero is laughing at something Jude said, his head thrown back against the back of the couch, throat exposed. His laughter is echoing throughout the living room of Jude's ridiculously small apartment. Jude snaps the photo, and drops his phone to the coffee table, before leaning over and kissing Zero's neck, jaw, face, until Zero isn't laughing, but moaning.

::

II.

The second time he does it, Zero is frowning down at an instructional IKEA leaflet. His face is scrunched up, and he has a deep line of concentration furrowing between his eyebrows. It makes Jude's stomach cramp at the sheer beauty of this man. Zero looks up right after Jude takes the photo, eyebrows raised, and face unguarded, and Jude snaps another photo. Zero frowns when Jude grins around the words, "Blackmail material for the next time you don't want to do the dishes." Zero grins at him, all teeth and tackles him. They fuck right in the middle of the livingroom, between packing styrofome, bolts, plastic nubs, and an IKEA bathroom cabinet's faux metal pieces strewn around them. Jude has never been happier.

::

III.

They fight. It's an ugly one, and they haven't spoken in nearly 3 days. Zero hasn't stayed over at all, instead opting to go to his condo instead. Jude hasn't had a proper night's sleep in that time, and it makes him cranky and irritable, and even angrier at Zero. 

It's game night though, and Jude doesn't want to go. He's pissed, even though he knows Zero would never do anything to compromise what they have. He still thinks that Zero had no reason to flirt with that Boston cheerleader at Tuesday's away game, though he feels like he's overreacting. His mother always said he would make a mountain from a molehill. 

The screaming match that followed though, sent Jude fuming back to his hotelroom and flying back with Lionel instead of with the team. He stews for two days and 18 hours, before deciding to go to the arena and attend the game. 

He's sitting in the owners row, utilizing Oscar's seats, when the final whistle blows. The Devils win 109-88. There's a flurry of congratulating, shaking hands, polite nodding, and when Jude finally steps away from a person whose name he's already forgotten, Zero is right there in his space. He's mumbling apologies against Jude's throat, sweaty face hidden between skin and shirt collar. Jude wraps his arms around Zero's shoulders and back, long bleached blond hair sticking to Jude's jaw. He kisses Zero's temple, cheek, wherever he can reach, and stumbles through his own apologies.

Lionel sends him the photo later that night while he's wrapped around a softly snoring Zero. In the photo, he has his forehead pressed against Zero's, their eyes are closed, hands clutching at each other.

Jude thinks it's his favourite photo yet.

::

IV.

Zero insists that they have a date night. They never really had one, when they started all of this, and that's before _The Kiss_. Jude says it with capitals in his head. There's a shitty little carnival in Zero's childhood neighbourhood. It's tiny, and there's a funny smell around some of the booths, but the people milling around ignore them completely.

Jude laughs as Zero tries to impress him by shooting hoops. He sinks every ball, and the grin on his face when he hands Jude a massive pink and purple unicorn, makes Jude's stomach flutter and his cheeks hurt from smiling. 

Jude kicks Zero's ass at knocking down the stacked metal cups. Zero gives him a dubious look when Jude shrugs and says, "I played baseball in high school too."

Jude picks the blue and white shark, with its crooked material teeth, and limp tail. It's a little frumpy and looks like it's been overlooked for more than a few years. He says as much when he hands it to Zero. He feels shy, all of a sudden, when Zero gives him an indecipherable look. After what feels like a lifetime (Jude's brain exaggerates, it was not more than 15 seconds), Zero smiles. It's the same soft smile he gives Jude when he wakes up to Jude's fingers sliding through his hair, and trailing down his back, while Jude's reading a vendor's report, or something equally boring.

Zero curls his fingers around Jude's, the stuffed shark tucked underneath his left arm, and tugs Jude into walking. They eat funnel cake, and hot dogs, drink soda, and have a juvenile burping contest. Jude gets the hiccups and Zero chuckles everytime Jude makes a high pitched squawk. 

It's late. The few other guests have petered out, until it's only Jude and Zero, an old couple standing by a fountain, and the festival workers. Jude grins when he spots it. The old photobooth is tucked into a tight spot between a row of broken arcade games, and a fortune teller's booth. The booth is tiny, and Jude ducks behind the faded black curtain. He pulls Zero down on his lap and shoves their prizes to the footwell. The machine makes a strange sound, but doesn't spit the coins Jude poked into the little slot, back out again.

Zero shakes his head, and grins his best _I'm-a-sex-god-and-you-know-it_ grin, when the flash goes off. Jude digs his fingers into Zero's side, a ticklish spot right underneath his ribs, and Zero squawks and tries to move away.

_Flash._

Jude slides both palms up Zero's sides, bunching the material up underneath his palms. He knows the look he's giving Zero is what makes the man's breath hitch.

_Flash._

Zero drops his head a few milimetres, sliding his nose along Judes. The tip of his nose is cold as it brushes over Jude's cheek. Their lips brush once, and Jude leans up and slots their lips together. They don't notice the last flash, or how much time passes, until someone's clearing their throat and pulling the curtain open. Zero's lips make an audible _pop_ when he pulls away from Jude. Jude's fingers are in Zero's hair, bleach blond strands falling over Zero's forehead and left ear.

The voice grumbles that the carnival is closed, and they need to leave. They stumble out of the booth, and make it a few paces before they have to double back for their stuffed toys. Jude grabs the photo strip, shoving it into his pocket. He's giddy, and presses Zero against the side of the Porche to kiss him again.

It's only during the early hours of the next morning, just before the sun peeks over the horizon, that Jude finds the strip tucked into the pack pocket of his jeans. It's a little bent, but that's not what makes Jude's heart ache, and his palms sweat. He traces his fingers over the picture, taking a few steps and tucking it into the frame of the mirror by the door. He knows his eyes will find it every single time he leaves their bedroom. He climbs back in bed and presses his body against Zero's. Zero's arm flops over Jude's waist, and he's pulled in, head tucked underneath Zero's chin, and legs tangled.

Jude breathes in, nose pressed to Zero's throat. "I love you Gideon," he whispers. He doesn't get a reaction, not that he expected one, but it's okay. He slides into sleep, warm and content.

:::

V.

It's Jude's birthday. He hates his birthday, and all of the time he spent hoping that Oscar would show up at the party that his mother planned, praying every night that Oscar would call, anything, waiting for any indication that his father was aware of his existence.

He hates his birthday, he hates celebrating it, thinking about it, or even being reminded of it. 

_But._

Jude sighs and runs his fingers through his hair and shoves the report in front of him, right to the edge of his desk. Zero looked like a small child this morning, bouncing on the bed to wake Jude up, before receiving what Zero deemed the _actual_ wake up, a birthday blowjob.

Zero, like Jude, doesn't like celebrating his birthday, but apparently he'll make an exception for Jude. He's stuck at work all day, but he doesn't mind. Lionel barges into his office and shoves a tray of cupcakes at him. They talk a little, laugh, and eat cupcakes during Jude's cancelled 10 o' clock meeting. He thinks Lionel had it purposefully cancelled, but he doesn't prod. A few hours after Lionel leaves, Kyle drops by to wish him a happy birthday. She doesn't give him any cake or gifts or anything, _thank God_ , but leaves him with a promise of heavy drinking on Friday night. Jude tries to protest, but it falls on deaf ears when the door closes behind Kyle.

His mother phones during lunch, and he spends an hour talking to her about everything and nothing. She asks how he and Zero are doing, laughs loudly when Jude splutters through her, _"You boys are using protection, right?"_. She tells him about her garden, and how she's constantly chasing the dogs away from the rose bushes. She says goodbye after making Jude promise to bring Gideon _("Jesus, Jude, I am not calling your boyfriend Zero. That's not a name. And it certainly isn't something mothers call their sons.")_ down for a visit, and Jude feels a little pleased.

He gets through the rest of his work, and packs his things up at 5. He's heading home earlier than usual, Zero's orders. He slides his suit jacket on, pulls on his cuffs, grabs his briefcase, and relishes in the satisfying click of his office door behind him. He's home by 6. After dumping his keys and jacket, tie, and briefcase, Zero comes through the kitchen door. He leans against the frame, grey sweats hanging low on his hips, the green henley creating a startling contrast against his lightly tanned skin, and Jude _wants_.

"Go take a shower. I'll be out back," Zero says. He disappears through the back door. Jude stares for a few seconds before deciding that he really does want a shower. It's been a long day and he's tired.

Jude stumbles outside after 15 minutes, damp hair falling over his forehead, to find Zero reclining on one of the porch chairs. He holds a beer out to Jude, which he thankfully accepts. Jude sits on the last porch chair, and sips on his beer. Zero bought chinese, and they sit with their ankles bumping together, Zero twirling his chopsticks like drumsticks, and Jude isn't glaring jealously at him, fork in hand. They talk shit, Zero telling him how one of the new guys fell on his ass when the Devil Girls started practising a new routine. Jude laughs until his stomach aches, and they drink until all the beer is gone. They've migrated to the porch stairs and Jude leans heavily into Zero's side. He's a little buzzed from the beer, but he feels warm. Jude stares at Zero's hand on his knee for a moment, deciding instead to lace their fingers together. They don't do this often, holding hands, or public displays of affection in general, but Jude relishes in the fact that Zero's hands are bigger than his. He looks at the veins standing out against Zero's hands, how soft they look, and the thought of how tightly Zero grips the basketball on court, or Jude's hips when they're fucking.

He doesn't take a photo, though the image itself is printed on his retinas. He squeezes Zero's hand and kisses him. Zero drags him inside, where they don't talk for the rest of the night.

Jude doesn't realise it right then, but he hasn't thought of Oscar the entire day, and that is completely okay with him.

::


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude’s drunk when they get home. Gideon’s arm is around his waist, as they stumble up the path between the rose bushes Jude’s mom planted when he first moved in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologise for the long wait. RL has actively been trying to kill me.  
> Enjoy chapter 2. It is 2740 words of porn, so you can't say I don't love you.  
> Unbeta'd. All errors are mine. Please let me know if you spot any, glaringly or otherwise.  
> Kudos and comments welcome.  
> Enjoy.

Jude’s drunk when they get home. Gideon’s arm is around his waist, as they stumble up the path between the rose bushes Jude’s mom planted when he first moved in. It’s their last night in Jude’s place, and they’ve just come back from celebrating another Devil’s victory. Gideon kissed him in the owners’ section, leaning over the chairs in front of Jude, kissing the elated grin off of Jude’s face. He kissed him up against the lockers too, until Craig, a giant redhead from one of the Carolinas, smacked Gideon upside the head to dislodge their lips.

The celebration that followed in the Playground involved booze, and Gideon squeezing Jude’s leg periodically underneath the table. Jude’s been half hard all night, but now, as they stumble up this path for the last time, Jude stops at the front door. He pulls Gideon in, and kisses him. He pushes his fingers through the short strands, momentarily longs for the longer hair, and angles his head to slide his tongue along Gideon’s. He loves this, just making out whenever and wherever they want, within reason, he reminds himself.

Gideon groans and the hand he planted on Jude’s waist slides down to his ass. Jude moans at the tight grip and pulls back from the kiss. There’s a thin line of spit connecting their lips, and Gideon’s eyes are still closed. They slide open leisurely, and a filthy grin curves the shape of his lips. Jude looks at him, or as much as he’s able to in his drunken haze, and thinks to himself, “Fuck, he’s gorgeous.”

Jude’s always known that he loves Gideon, even back when he was just Zero. Jude loved him through the prostitution scandal, his whatever-that-was with Jelena (even though he’ll deny it until his dying day), sleeping together, not sleeping together, sleeping together, complete break up, and now. It’s the now section in his brain that makes him feel warm, alcohol notwithstanding, and Jude cannot imagine his life without Gideon in it. 

His dick rears its head, before Jude’s feelings can kill his boner, and he’s suddenly overcome with memories of the sex they had a few days ago. Gideon had held him down by the back of the neck, told him to hold onto the slats on the headboard, and went to town. He twitches at the mere thought, and feels himself leak precome into his briefs.

“I wanna ride you,” Jude whispers. Gideon groans, and plasters his head against Jude’s neck.

“You’re killing me Jude,” He moans, but fumbles for the keys anyway. He keeps Jude tucked against him though, and Jude takes the opportunity to suck on Gideon’s pulse point until the front door is unlocked and shoved open. Gideon herds Jude through the door, with a, “Come on, come on, come on.”

Jude feels laughter bubbling up his throat, but it dies abruptly as Gideon shoves Jude’s jacket off his shoulders. “Get naked.” Gideon growls, and Jude wants to laugh at Gideon’s eagerness, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because they’ve never done it this way before. Sure, they’ve had drunken fumbles in and out of closets, drunken hand jobs in the back of limousines, but every single time it has been Gideon leading the foray into each encounter. Jude was, and still is, a very willing participant, but he’s never expressed what he wants to do. Even the thought of it makes him impossibly harder, and he suddenly understands how Gideon feels. He’s nervous, and elated, and excited, and so fucking horny that he’s sure his dick can drill a hole in a brick wall.

He shoves Gideon back, dislodging lips from his neck with an audible pop, eyes blinking up at him in slight confusion. “Check the locks, and turn the lights off.” Jude instructs. He knows Gideon understands his words, and the implication behind them. They’re surrounded by boxes, and the living room has no curtains. Jude sees the imperceptible shift between Gideon and Zero, when the eyebrow is arched. 

“Really, Jude?” Jude does laugh this time, reaching up to pull off his tie. He undoes a few buttons and takes a step backward.

“You should hurry up. And bring a chair from the dining room.” Jude feels victorious when he sees Gideon’s eyes track him all the way to the bedroom door. He unbuttons his shirt, dumping it in the clothes hamper in the corner of the room. He hears Gideon thump around as he undoes his belt. He gets undressed quickly, deciding at the last second to get rid of his briefs too. His head is fuzzy, but he’s determined as he spreads himself out on the bed. He tucks one arm behind his head, and fumbles for the lube they left between the pillows this morning. 

Jude squeezes a dollop onto his right hand and wraps his hand around his dick. He bites his lip to contain the moan about to slip free, but it just feels so fucking good. He strokes his dick slowly, root to tip. Once, twice, and is about to go for a third, when he hears an audible intake of breath from the door. Jude opens his eyes, not even remembering when they closed in the first place, and sees Gideon, hands fisted by his sides.

“You started without me?” He asks, and he sounds almost jealous that Jude’s been touching himself without Gideon there. The thought is preposterous, but so is Gideon sometimes. He wants to say something witty, but nothing comes to mind, so he opts for honesty instead.

“The thought of riding you is too hot to not think about.” Jude says. He runs his tongue over his lip, feeling the indents his teeth left. 

Gideon crawls onto the bed, but Jude shakes his head. “Sit down. Only watching.” Gideon groans, but backs off obediently. He sits down, curling his fingers into his slacks.

Jude tightens his hand on his dick, squeezing the base of his dick. He slides his hand back up to the head, fingers sliding over the sensitive underside lightly. The muscles in his stomach contract, lifting his torso off the bed slightly. Jude moans, whispers “Fuck,” before gripping his balls and pulling on them slightly. The pressure pulls him away from the edge, but he knows it wouldn’t be for very long. 

Fingers siding over his perineum, Jude gropes for the lube, finding it awkwardly shoved underneath Gideon’s pillow. He doesn’t even want to think about how it got there in the first place. 

He pours lube onto his fingers, making sure to heat it up, and coat his fingers properly. Jude hitches his right leg up, while splaying his left leg out to the side, giving himself enough space and leverage to get to his actual destination.

He presses his fingers onto his perineum again, moans at the sensation, but continues down, running a lube-wet finger over his hole. Jude moans, and doesn’t even feel self-conscious about it. “Oh God.” He moans, and slides a finger into himself, first only the tip, then second knuckle deep.

There’s a groan that makes Jude open his eyes. Gideon has left the chair, and is on his knees at the foot of the bed. His eyes are glued to Jude’s hands, alternating between staring at Jude’s right hand gripping the base of his dick, and his left hand curled inward, with a finger shoved in his ass. Gideon looks up when Jude doesn’t move, and there’s something in his eyes, a silent plea not to exile him back to the chair.

Jude nods and says, “No touching.”

Gideon groans, but agrees. “Fuck, okay, yeah, just-“ He breaks off, and Jude slides his finger out, and slowly back in until he gets used to the feeling again. He pulls his finger out, and goes back in with two. He’s tight, Jude knows, and the stretch burns deliciously deep. He pumps his fingers in and out until he loses track of time, but he can feel Gideon’s breath on his thigh. He studiously ignores the sensation, pushing inside his hole with three fingers, after adding more lube to them.

The stretch is tight, and his fingers keep grazing his prostate minutely. It isn’t enough to get him off, fingering himself never was, but the thought of riding Gideon, Gideon’s hand wrapped around him, inside of his body, sweet-slow coffee flavoured kisses in the morning, neck nuzzles when Gideon is still half asleep, worried calls consisting of ‘are you coming home tonight?’ fill his brain and Jude is suddenly on edge so fucking quickly that he has to pull his fingers out of his ass, pull on his balls and squeeze the base of his dick in an effort not to come.

He feels sweaty and out of breath, his brain is still fuzzy, but it’s slowly clearing, but clouding itself with _GideonGideonGideon_. “Gid- Gideon.” Jude moans. There’s a thump, and a rustle of material, followed by the bed dipping between Jude’s knees.

Jude scrambles up, “No. On your back.” Gideon follows the instruction quickly, and flops gracelessly down next to Jude. Gideon’s dick taps against his belly where it’s curved toward his navel, and Jude _wants_. Jude slides onto Gideon, tucking his knees against Gideon’s ribs. Gideon’s dick is warm in Jude’s hand, and blood-red at the tip where Jude starts smearing lube, making sure he’s covered from root to tip.

They’d stopped using condoms a short time ago and it is still a marvel to Jude how different it feels, having Gideon’s dick in his hand, running his fingers up the thick vein on the underside. 

“I was gonna suck you off first, but I can’t-“ Jude says in a rush, lifting his hips and reaching back for Gideon’s dick. He allows Gideon to help him, lift him a little, while he slides the head of Gideon’s dick over his hole once, twice, before sinking down. The head pushes past the tight furl, and Gideon digs his fingers into Jude’s hips so hard that he knows he’ll have bruises in the morning. Once the head pops in, Jude slides down minutely, before pressing his knees into the mattress to lift himself up again. He slowly grows accustomed to the intrusion as his body acclimates, his hole slowly stretching to make space for Gideon’s dick.

Jude grips Gideon’s wrists, pulling them off of his hips and planting them by his head. The movement changes the angle, and Jude moans wantonly as he slides down a little more and the pressure on his prostate builds. “Keep them there.” He whispers, breath hitching.

Jude allows himself a moment to just look at Gideon. His fingers are already curled into the pillow beneath his head, and his throat is bared. Jude sees him gulp, and his chest moves rapidly with increased breathing. The muscles in his stomach clench rhythmically, his hips hitching up minutely. Jude runs his fingers lightly over Gideon’s pebbled nipples, making sure to let his nails catch on them, before placing his hands on Gideon’s stomach. He know his hands somehow increase the pressure, but it stabilises him, as he raises his knees again, rising and falling slowly, so slowly.

Jude doesn’t want to feel so full, but he also does. The moment he sinks down completely, the head of Gideon’s dick pressed right up against his prostate, Jude has no idea why they haven’t done this sooner, why the fuck he’d been so afraid of taking this step, taking what he wants.

He lets his head fall forward, his hair in his eyes and he can feel the sweaty strands stick to his forehead, as he sets a slow pace of up, down, up, swivel, down, up, down, up, swivel. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Gideon breathes, and Jude wants to scoff. He feels a blush rising to his cheeks, but his face is flushed anyway, so it doesn’t matter. He averts his eyes and grinds his hips against Gideon’s instead. Gideon groans and Jude feels the vibrations underneath his fingertips.

“I’m serious, Jude. You have no fucking idea how beautiful you are.” Gideon growls. His fingers dig deeper into the pillow, and Jude can see his knuckles turn a sickly white from the pressure. “I know you don’t believe me, but Jesus Jude, you’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

Jude blushes violently, and leans back instead. He puts his hands on Gideon’s knees, and lifts his own knees. Lifting up is easy, and sinking down knocks the breath out of Jude for a moment, so he does it again. Again, and again, and again, until Gideon stops telling him he’s beautiful, and they’re both just moaning to the sounds of flesh slapping together.

Jude grins at Gideon’s lustful gaze, teasing him with a well-placed, “You should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Jude doesn’t expect Gideon to actually reach for Jude’s own phone on the bedside drawer, for it to click open, and Gideon to actually take a photo.

“Gideon, no, come on-“ Jude laughs and tries to reach for his phone, but Gideon already has it shoved underneath a pillow.

“Jerk-off material for next week.” Gideon says around a laugh, his eyes tracking every movement Jude makes. Feeling bold, Jude ventures a little further.

“You like me riding you?” He clenches his muscles while sliding down, leaning back again. He knows that Gideon has a perfect view of his dick sliding into Jude’s ass, he has the perfect view of Jude’s hips as they twitch whenever his prostate is brushed, a perfect view of his shaking thighs every single time the angle is just right. Jude feels sweaty and full, but he needs more.

He keeps himself balanced with one hand, wrapping the other around his dick and pulls. Gideon eyes him greedily. “Please?” He whispers, and Jude just nods. Instead of flipping him over and pounding into him, Gideon’s hands snap out, one gripping Jude’s knee, the other wrapping around Jude’s dick. They find a quick rhythm after that, both so close to the edge that it is almost maddening. Gideon’s hips snap up when Jude’s hips angle to slide down. Jude swears, a litany of _fuckfuckfuck_ spilling from his lips.

His orgasm takes him by surprise and his body seizes up as he comes over Gideon’s fingers. An immense pleasure washes over him, like coming up for air after being underwater for too long. He gasps, his toes tingle and his thighs tremble. He collapses forward onto Gideon’s chest and they breathe in sticky unison. Gideon’s dick slides out of Jude’s ass, and the dribble alerts him to the fact that Gideon did in fact come while Jude was in a pleasure filled haze.

They lie there together, sweat slick skin sticking together. Jude’s half on top of Gideon, head pillowed on his shoulder. It’s too hot, but he presses his nose into Gideon’s neck anyway. He feels Gideon’s lips against his forehead, and Gideon shuffles a little.

“We’re definitely doing that again.” Jude mumbles, the twinge in his ass and lower back being ignored. He’s suddenly very sleepy, and yawns into the kiss Gideon plants on his lips.

“Fuck yes.” Gideon says, and Jude can _hear_ the grin he must be sporting. He falls asleep pressed against Gideon, and doesn’t give a shit that he’s still covered in come.

:::

Jude checks his Instagram feed during lunch. He’s hiding from Jelena at work, and hiding from unpacking at home, when he sees that he’s been tagged in a picture. When it opens, Jude blushes crimson. He knows that setting, recognises the way his face is angled, can almost feel the lips he sees pressed against his forehead. The lighting is terrible, he knows because there was only one lamp that hadn’t been packed yet. The light falls over the side of Gideon’s face, the hickey at the base of his throat is dark. 

It’s captioned _“Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever… It remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything.” — Aaron Siskind_. Jude’s stomach aches, and he is overcome with adoration for this man. This man, who sacrificed so much for him, who _loves_ him, is the best thing that has ever happened to Jude. He texts Gideon a simple _I love you_ , and goes back to work. 

Life is good.


End file.
